CLT

Pop quiz.

24

1. the number of hours in a day
2. a tired TV series starring heretofore has-been actor Keifer Sutherland in which the same premise plays out every season (the frequent phrase "the terrorists just got away... we almost had them!" which cues another meandering episode)
3. the number of hours I've been awake

15

1. payday
2. the age at which girls in Latin America officially come of age (cue the frilly formal dresses and mariachi band!)
3. the number of hours (within the last 24) that I spent roaming the halls of the Charlotte Airport

One hour and seven minutes

1. Nothing witty for this one. Just how long I've been on hold with Delta to cancel an unused portion of my itinerary so they don't make me forefeit the entire amount.

I had the misfortune of planning a same-day round trip meeting on what turned out to be one of the worst travel days so far this summer. I rode down on US Airways (aka America West, aka Mesa Airlines, aka these people have layered crappy airline upon crappy airline to the point that the New York bus system runs more efficiently). I arrived at about 5:15 AM for a 6:30 AM flight. Should be sufficient, right? Think again. US Airways decides to staff their ticket counter with THREE people. That's about one for every 100 customers in line at the time. And their shiny electronic kiosks? Around the corner, not being used. This is JFK, folks. JFK!! How can you staff JFK with THREE PEOPLE???

My introduction is a bit of a non sequitur as the real gripe of the day has to do with mother nature / the FAA closing JFK. After my less-than-meaningful client meeting, I returned to the airport at about 11:00 AM only to find my 1:00 PM Delta flight cancelled. They re-booked me on US Airways. US Airways then cancelled the flight on which I was re-booked. Upon returning to Delta, they confirmed me on a flight to LaGuardia for the next day arriving about an hour before I was to leave for Spokane from JFK. Not gonna cut it, Delta.

To hedge my bets, I booked an 8 PM flight on JetBlue (thank you corporate card). After trying endlessly to work the system, I resigned to the idea that the JetBlue flight was my best bet. The online tracker said the 8 PM was still planning on flying, albeit departing 15 minutes late. Commence the shell game. 8 became 9, 9 became 12:30AM, 12:30 AM became 1:09 AM, 1:09 AM became 2:00 AM.

This battle of wits left ample time to wander the concourses in search of sustenance and distraction (I came with only my briefcase, no laptop, no cell/blackberry charger aka no brickbreaker or Texas Hold'em). I read a GQ cover-to-cover. The take-aways: jean shirts are in, Wes Wesley is the most important man in the NBA (he's not a player. He's a mortgage broker. Research it, I was confused too), a properly made dress shirt is well worth spending $300+, and Jesssica Biel is apparently a deeply intellectual individual (riiiiiight). What a waste of time.

I spent quite a bit of time bouncing back and forth between the concourses and the main entrance (pictured above). They have a row of rocking chairs facing a grand piano. A woman who had been stuck since the afternoon played for the entire evening. My favorite was her rendition of Phantom of the Opera. I asked for an encore as she attempted to wander away and pass out at about 12:00 AM. I think she was taken aback that people were listening so intently.

"You're what's keeping me sane!" I yelled, "play on! PHANTOM! PHANTOM!"
"Really?" she mused. And play she did, holding nothing back.

The time in the terminals proved an interesting dose of human experience. We had a guy at the JetBlue desk enraged at the poor desk clerk because of the repeated delays and demanded compensation (the police came to intervene, but the gate agent decided resolve the situation by showing the moron the weather radar computer that tracked the lightning storms at 45,000 feet above JFK – “oh, well I can understand why you don’t think it’s your fault, but I still think you owe me something.” It amazes me that people like this guy self-sustain.

Then there was the opportunity to translate for a woman from Ecuador that was trying to determine a) what the heck was happening, b) how she could get to Newark, and c) what it means to be "bumped" and have to be put on a "stand-by list" ("but I purchased a ticket! How can they do that?"). Sweet woman, she unfortunately didn't realize that the in the US, everyone flies (dressed in everything from suits to Kool Aid-stained cut-off t-shirts). Conversely, in South America, only the rich fly, or in other words there is a premium service associated with the wad of cash you're throwing down. Not in the good ole US of A. This is Thunderdome, baby! Anything goes!

And why am I rambling on at 5:14 AM, you ask? Still on hold with Delta. Now at one hour, forty-six minutes. No end in sight. Forget it, I'm going to bed...